Betrayal in Blood
by lady-ark
Summary: One Shot. Do the ends justify the means?   Rated T for one word.


Glory be to BioWare.

Nod to Casino Royal with name & phrase.

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><p>There was fire everywhere. Even the stones of the building seemed to be on fire. The ground shook as the Archdemon spun around, wings and tail sending guards flying. It gave an ear-splitting bellow.<p>

She ducked behind behind a crumbled portion of wall as an emissary threw another fireball at her. Zevran ducked out from his own cover and the hilt of a dagger appeared to grow from the darkspawn's throat. Vesta nodded her thanks and spun around the rubble, darting for her next cover, sliding on the gravel.

She crouched next to the stairs, and patted the pockets of her robe and pack. With a feeling of dread she realized she was out of lyrium. How does one know how much to carry before taking on an entire horde of darkspawn? Whatever the answer, it was more than she had. She peeked over the stairs, looking for Wynne; somehow they became separated and the mage was on the far side of the Archdemon with Alistair. This battle had been going on for hours, she hung her head, exhausted.

"Come, my friend, they won't wait for us!" Zevran sprinted past her in a blur.

Vesta clamped down on a seed of panic that was starting to grow, and ran after Zev. Spotting a ballista, she ran for it, and with great effort, was able to turn it to face the Archdemon. It was viciously swiping at Alistair. She waited until it reared back far enough and they launched the massive bolt at the monster where it became lodged under its' jaw.

Alistair quickly glanced over his shoulder and she could see the relief on his face when he saw her. Their eyes met for a a heartbeat, then she looked past him and screamed, "Alistair! Behind you!" He spun, raising his shield and barely managed to catch a crushing blow from the Archdemon as it fell to the ground, but ended up sliding across the stones. He came to a rest against the base of a tower, unmoving.

It felt like time slowed down as her heart stuck in her throat, Vesta stared at him, willing him to move when she heard Zevran's voice, "Wynne, hold on!" Turning, she saw Wynne facing down a charging ogre and Zevran surrounded by half a dozen darkspawn. More of the foul beasts were charging up the stairs.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Desperate, Vesta dug deep and with the last of her reserves, sent two pieces of masonry flying; one the size of a cart managed to connect with the charging ogre, knocking it over the edge of the roof, the other, slightly smaller brick slid through the group of darkspawn, leaving a bloody smear and an open path for Zev.

She staggered, leaning heavily on the ballista, when she saw Alistair pull himself upright. She could see him reaching for his sword as he staggered towards the prone dragon.

"Alistair!" She could feel her throat tear with the scream.

He looked towards her and froze. As he watched, she took a dagger and slashed it deep across her inner arm. His confusion turned to horror as he watched her gather strength from the blood pooling around them. She turned to the charging horde and with a gesture, made the blood in their veins boil. As she looked away, Alistair regained his composure and continued at the Archdemon, sword raised, when he felt like he had run into a wall. He couldn't move, hands or feet or head, no matter how he tried to struggle.

He could hear Wynne's voice, "Oh child, no! What have you done?"

Vesta stepped around into his field of view, her face more pale than usual. She reached up to carefully remove the sword from his hand and he could see the blood still sluggishly pulsing from the self-inflicted wound. He had no choice but to meet her eye as she gave him an insistent look.

"What in the – Vesta! What have you done?" Zevran's voice came closer, full of confusion.

She held up a bloody hand, not taking her eyes off of Alistair, "Stay back, Zev. It's over." She leaned in close and whispered, "Forgive me, my love. Please forgive me and _live_." Her eyes shined with unshed tears as she placed a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. He tried to pull away but couldn't. He couldn't even talk; her magic bound him tightly.

She turned and walked towards the stirring Archdemon, a trail of blood following her. She didn't look back as she raised the sword over her head. The Archdemon gave an earth-shaking roar as she swiftly brought the weapon down. Light streamed from where the blade pierced armored hide, engulfing the mage. Weakened, she leaned heavily on the hilt.

Suddenly the resistance holding him in place vanished, and Alistair fell to his knees, watching in near-disbelief. Suddenly it was as if all the air was sucked out the world, and the three companions were thrown back as the beam of light exploded outwards.

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><p>"Alistair? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"<p>

He just lay there. He wished the ground would swallow him up. He could hear a dog howling mournfully, and further away, crowds cheering.

"Open your eyes, Alistair."

He cracked open one eye; Wynne was leaning over him, concern clear on her features. He could swear she had less wrinkles just that morning.

"Can you stand? Zev, help me get him to his feet."

Alistair could see Zevran kneeling by _her_ body, her dog laying next to the elf. He snarled, pushing away Wynne, "Leave her alone!" With effort he pulled himself upright, pointedly not looking at the grandmotherly mage. "I said don't touch her!"

Zevran spun and backed up quickly as Alistair stormed forward. He held his hands up in surrender, an expression of sincere sorrow on his face, "I am sorry, my friend. The world is a lesser place without her."

Alistair's eyes flashed in fury, "Sorry? Her? She was a...a _blood mage_! And she used that … foul magic on _me_!" His hands balled into fists and he advanced menacingly towards the assassin. Zevran looked frantically at Wynne, drawing Alistair's anger towards her.

"And you! We were together almost every waking moment for over a year! How could you not know she was one of those? All those times she was over at your tent, practicing magic with you!" He pointed accusingly at Wynne.

She gave a placating gesture, "Alistair, I didn't know. I don't think any of us did. I am just as upset at this as you are." She could visibly see him struggling with the betrayal and loss.

His eyes narrowed in anger, "Upset? Upset doesn't even begin to cover it. She didn't touch you with her blood mage hands, didn't control your body with her magic. If she was still alive, I'd kill her myself." His voice cracked with emotion, "_I _was the one who was supposed to die!"

Alistair spotted a fallen mace and grabbed it, moving back towards the corpse, hefting the weapon. He was about to raise it when a force hit him in the ribs and a pain sprang up in his wrist; Zevran had tackled him and the mabari had torn the weapon from his hand.

Zev held a dagger to Alistair's throat, "I do not fully understand what happened, other than she saved us and now she is gone. I loved her, but said nothing when she chose you. And this is how you behave." The assassin spit in disgust, "You are just as much of a fool as the witch called you."

Alistair tried to struggle, but as tired as he was, no match for wardog and assassin. Giving up, he glared hatefully at Zevran as Wynne leaned over, "What did she say to you? When she took your sword, she said something to you."

His voice was hollow, hopeless, "What does it matter? The bitch is dead. Everything she said was lies!" He looked away, but not before she could see tears fill his eyes, "Let me up, Maker damn you!" He shoved Zevran away, and started yanking off his armor. "Tell them I'm dead. I hope Anora sits on the crown and dies."

He picked his way across the corpse-ridden rooftop and was gone within moments. Wynne stood there covering her face with her hands as Zevran sat down next to Vesta's body, her head cradled in his lap, mabari at his side. They were still like that when the others came looking.

Alistair was gone.


End file.
